SING to Apollo, god of day,
Whose golden beams with morning play,
And make her eyes as brightly shine,
Aurora's face is called divine ;
Sing to Phoebus and that throne
Of diamonds which he sits upon.
Io pæans let us sing
To physic's and to poesy's king !

Crown all his altars with bright fire,
Laurels bind about his lyre,
A Daphnean coronet for his head,
The Muses dance about his bed ;
When on his ravishing lute he plays,
Strew his temple round with bays.
Io pæans let us sing
To the glittering Delian king !